


You just can't behave, now do you?

by Potato_In_Training



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I should go to sleep, Jongin Needs a Hug, Little Space, Little!Jongin, My little Nini Bear, Non-Sexual Age Play, Past Child Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potato_In_Training/pseuds/Potato_In_Training
Summary: When Jongin has a panic attack in the locker room, it leaves the group shocked and worried. It also leaves Jongin trembling and crying, seeking for comfort he so desperately wants to find. If he once fit the description of mature, then he surely doesn't now.Basically all the fluff and and comfort I ever wanted to give Jongin, with so much cuddles you will drown in them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction posted on this site, so criticism is much, much welcome! Before you start reading, please be aware that this story contains flashbacks of a traumatic past, as well as non-sexual age play and child abuse. So if you are uncomfortable with any of that, please don't read this.   
> This story will contain a most traumatized little Jongin, with a HUGE amount of cuddles and brotherly feelings. (Insert Trump voice here) Believe me, it's huuuuge. (End of Trump voice. Thank God). Also, I think that there are not nearly enough little space exo fics.

Jongin almost slipped. The sweat that had started to build itself on his forehead two hours ago, was now dropping to the floor, forming a small puddle between his feet. By now, he could almost feel every movement his lungs made inside his chest, frantically trying to provide enough oxygen to every cell of their owner's body. As much as he looked forward to their new music video, Monster, their dance choreographer sure didn't take it easy on this one. "Alright guys, that seemed good enough for now, let's take a small break", someone said. At this point, he honestly didn't care who said it. All that mattered was that someone had finally, finally said it. He didn't think twice as he let his body sack onto the dance floor, completely worn out. The only thing he felt was the sharp sting in his muscles, begging for some kind of relief.   
His teammates soon followed. "You alright there?" Jongin just gave Yixing a weak 'OK sign', too tired to form the word with his lips. 

When the dancer felt strong enough to move one of his limbs again, he angrily pushed the (currently) blonde strands of hair that kept coming back into his view behind his ear. "Hey, I thought we were supposed to make a short break, not hang around like potato sacks." Jongin gave Sehun an annoyed look, groaning as his back rebelled against the firm surface of the wooden floor.

That cocky little brat.

"Sehun, would you please be kind enough to let us get some strongly needed rest?" Sehun's eyebrows furrowed a little, but other than that, the youngest decided to just stay quiet, make himself comfortable against the mirror wall, and to slowly sip from his waterbottle. Right. Water. He could use that now too.  
"Sehun is right though. The dance teacher will be coming back shortly, so get yourself ready, everybody!" Suho never failed to make his enthusiasm sound awkward. He even tried to clap his hands for motivational effect, but stopped mid air. Apparently, his arms decided that no, he was not strong enough to use any kind of hand gestures at the moment. 

"Yeah, I'm just getting myself some water..." Hearing no responses from his teammates, only still exhausted breathing, Jongin figured it was okay, and lifted himself off the floor with a grunt.   
When he finally reached the locker room, he was sure he could hear angels singing as he found his water bottle inside his training bag. With long, content gulps he made the water slowly disappear, closing his eyes in statisfaction. 

He almost choked when the phone rang. A little bit upset now at whatever foolish being didn't let him live in peace, he made his way to his jacket, fumbling his phone out of his pocket. 

A number Jongin had never seen before showed up on the display. With a small sigh, he prepared himself for possible sasaeng fans who might have found out his number again. But, remembering to be polite, he made his voice sound as if he hadn't just been dancing for two hours straight. "Hello?"

"Why can't you just be a good boy for once, Jongin? Hiding from your Daddy is surely not what good, well behaved boys do."  
Jongin's entire body froze.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I forgot to say this in the first chapter: Exo is not mine. I don't make money with writing this. I own no rights over the main characters mentioned in this story, in case anybody would think I'm the boss of SM Entertainment. Sadly not. Please be aware of the warnings in this chapter!

“Why can’t you just be a good boy for once, Jongin? Hiding from your Daddy is surely not what good, well behaved boys do.”

Jongin just stood there, completely silent, his hand still holding the phone to his ear. For a moment, he watched the dust particles go by, dancing delicately in the artificial light.  
Then, he inhaled. He exhaled, the air shakily leaving his mouth. He inhaled again, this time stronger, with more force. His toes began to tingle. Jongin felt nauseous.   
The breathing turned rapid and fierce; the air that entered and left Jongin’s body repeatedly scratched on his inner walls, making him feel like he wanted to vomit.

“It can’t be him, it can’t be him, it can’t b- “

The voice was gruff, yet somehow managed to maintain a light and playful tone. 

“Oh dear, just imagine how long it took me to find you. You wouldn’t let me look after you for thirteen years, Jongin. But now, Daddy is here, and he will get us all together again, so that we can finally be the family we once were. It’s a shame you can’t talk to Mommy right now, she’s so excit- “

Jongin puked on the floor. His hands grasped the rod of a nearby bench, seeking for something to support his weight.   
The phone fell to the floor, unscathed. He could still hear him talking.  
He clutched the rod with both of his hands, shivering, barely able to stand. The bench rattled with the tremors of his body. 

“This time, you will listen to me and Mommy. This time, you won’t be running away, not like the last time we were together.”

His hands slipped from the rod, now finally loosing halt.

Jongin dropped onto the dirty floor of the locker room, his kneecaps hitting hard ground.

He wanted to hang up. He wanted to hang up so badly.

There was a stone in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. God, why couldn’t he breath?!

One hand came up into his hair, wildly tugging on it. He wanted to feel something, to hear something else besides that voice talking to him through the phone, with that terrifying playfulness it carried along. He barely registered the tears dripping down his nose, clouding his vision.

“-and then we will… Jongin, are you still listening to me? You remember to behave yourself when Daddy is talking to you, don’t you?”

Something clicked. There was a switch. Filthy, old, and forgotten. It now flipped upwards, all the dust coming off it.  
And then, Jongin remembered.  
He couldn’t hang up, because that’s not what good, well behaved boys were supposed to do. He couldn’t get a word out of his mouth, because good, well behaved boys were not supposed to talk back. His Daddy was mad at him, because good, well behaved boys weren’t supposed to run away from their family’s home, calling the police for help, and then never come back again.

Jongin sobbed. “Now now, we don’t have to start crying.” He curled himself into a ball on the floor, body shaking like it had just been put into the ice-cold water of the polar sea.  
“M’ sorry, Daddy. M’ sorry I was bad. P-Please don’t be mad…” The man gave a lighthearted, almost cheerful chuckle.  
“There’s my good boy. Now stop that pathetic crying, or else Daddy will have to come and punish you.”

That made Jongin remember what happened when he wasn’t a good, well-behaved boy.   
It made him remember the old, worn out leather belt, which always made that awful cracking sound when it was being thrown against his body. It made him remember the cigarettes, and the way his mother would press them against his golden skin, twisting and pressing the glowing tip on his arms. It made him remember that dirty, rundown shed his father threw him into, when he was being especially bad. There had been no food, no electricity, no furniture; just darkness. Sometimes, he was in there for days.   
It made him remember what his parents had done to him.

And then, with all the force his lungs would give him, Jongin screamed.

 

“What’s taking him so long?” Jongdae asked, his eyebrows worriedly shooting up into the air.  
“I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss about it. He’s obviously just jacking off.”

Jongdae threw his baseball cap at Baekhyun, effectively silencing him.

What the group called a ‘short break’ was long over and they were all stretching their limbs, preparing for their next dance practice and waiting for their dance teacher to come back.

“Well, despite Baekhyun’s incredible smart and intellectual assumption, I still think we should check on him. He’s been gone for ten full minutes, after all. ‘Bit long for just wanting to get water.”

Minseok made a ‘tsk’-sound under his breath, looking Jongdae skeptically into the eyes.  
“Really? What do you think happened to him? The boy is twenty-two, and by now, I expect him to drink water all by himself, without choking on it.”

There was a dull noise. All the members stopped in their movements, and turned their heads towards the door of the locker room. Something clearly just dropped to the floor. 

“I guess it’s finally happening now, Kim Jongin is getting murdered by water. Rest in peace, dear frie-“  
An almost simultaneously spoken “Shut up, Baek!” by at least three of the boys made him do a disappointed pout, and then go quiet.  
The group enjoyed Baekhyun’s never ending jokes and mischief, but they were simply too exhausted now, even after their break. It was rare that they were allowed to end their day so early after dance practice. They all needed it after the endless practice for their upcoming comeback, their bodies and minds drained to the maximum.

“Wait…” All eyes were now on Kyungsoo, who looked even more observant than usual. “Don’t you hear that?”

They all listened intently, for once actually not making any noises. The sound of muffled crying could be made out, making his way through the walls, just barely noticeable. 

“Yeah, alright, we should definitely check on him now.” Chanyeol added, running his fingers nervously through his hair.

There was a piercing scream, which made even Baekhyun’s carefree attitude disappear. He was sure that the others felt it going right through their bones, too.  
Everybody was at full alert now, the atmosphere filled with sharp tension.  
“Shit, what the…”

Junmyeon reached the door to the locker room first, barging into the room. The others were right behind him, and now they all circled around their second-youngest member. For a moment, they couldn’t believe their eyes.

Jongin was cowering on the floor with both of his hands in his blonde hair, forcefully tugging on it, as if he wanted to pull out his hair roots. The dark, chocolate brown eyes twitched uncontrollably from one place to another, unable to focus on anything. Jongin’s legs were being held so close to his upper body, one could think he wanted to create a shield. He did all these things at the same time, while crying and shivering hysterically.

“Jongin?! Can you hear me? Jongin!” The boy’s eyes stopped twitching, their owner just now noticing that someone else was inside the room. “Junmyeon!”, he sobbed out. His hands clutched Junmyeon’s ankle, holding onto it like it was a lifeline. “I-I-I’m so sorry I was bad, please don’t hurt me!”   
Junmyeon, kneeling before Jongin, was about as confused as the others, and just gave the hand around his ankle a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m calling an ambulance”, Chanyeol said, already entering the number on his phone. A quiet, broken whisper of “Sorry… M’ so sorry I was bad…” broke the silence again.  
Junmyeon was now stroking over Jongin’s quivering back, not knowing what to do. He looked around, searching for help, searching for a sign that said somebody knew what was going on. Nothing. The others stood around Jongin with wide eyes and open mouths, watching Jongin – no, by now he seemed more like a frightened animal than a human being – crying and sobbing.

Jongdae and Baekhyun made the first move, crouching down to where Jongin was cowering on the floor, and gently trying to make his hands stop clutching his hair. He obeyed, looking up to them. There was that small, scared whimper again, and in the next moment, he was in their arms, not letting go of them.

When the ambulance came, he wouldn’t stop clinging to their shirts, no matter how hard the medics tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? Personally I just have a strong urge to see the other members take care of little Nini, but since you can't always get what you want, you sometimes have to do it yourself. I see all these fanfictions describing Jongin as a sex god (which I don't complain about, I mean, just look at him), but on the other hand, there are all these interviews where he's just so squishy and pure. There are really not much fanfics out there who feature Jongin with his sqishy and pure side.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what happened? School. :) :) :)

Every time Kyungsoo moved his lower body, the worn leather of the seats creaked under his weight. It did absolutely nothing to comfort his feelings. His so called ‘feelings’ were just a torment out of worry and anger now, anyway.

When he saw Jongin on the floor back then, it unleashed a series of emotions in him.  
Not because he was disgusted by that what he saw, but because he just couldn’t believe his own eyes. Jongin, one of the few he considers close to, has looked so absolutely broken. A trembling and crying mess, as Jongdae had described it.  
His fists clenched again, fingernails carving into the skin of his palm.

He remembered every little detail.  
How Jongin had been crying, clutching the shirts of Baekhyun and Jongdae with his hands and all the strength his body had left. How he hadn’t been listening to the medics when they tried to tell him he had to release the boys now and go with them. How he had sobbed uncontrollably, when Baekhyun tried to make him loosen his grip just a little, so that the two of them were forced to join Jongin, taking him with them into the ambulance. How he had constantly mumbled “Sorry, I’m so sorry…”.

It all just didn’t make any _sense_.

The one thing that _did_ make sense to Kyungsoo however, was that he was very, very angry. Angry at that one person, that one truly and utterly disgusting person, who even so much as _dared_ to touch Jongin, to talk to Jongin, to harm Jongin in such a way that it would cause a mess like that.

There it was again. _Tick, tock… Tick, tock… Tick, tock…_  
“Can’t they fix this damn thing?”

Kyungsoo’s patience was really at an end right now. He tried to stare the clock that had been interrupting his flood of thoughts since he got here to death, but somehow it still kept making too loud noises.  
Great, yet another thing he didn’t like at this white, tidy, ‘everything-is-going-to-be-fine room’.

By now, all of them have made it into the hospital. They had been in a complete rush, hurriedly throwing on clothes their fans wouldn’t recognize all too much, covering their faces with scarves, and crossing every speed line with their cars they came up on with.

Kyungsoo gave up, sighed, and looked around the hospital’s waiting room, which he was currently sitting in. The other seven men didn’t seem to be much relaxed either. In fact, quite the opposite.

There was worried whispering and the rustle of clothing from those who couldn’t keep still. There was also a faint sound of nurses hastily walking from one room to another, although it was the white ( _white_ , everything was freaking white) walls and doors of the waiting room, it gave Kyungsoo something he could focus on.  
Time was not on their side, since it was almost ten p. m., and he swore he could feel every damn information his brain was trying to process.  
Currently, it was a rather massive load of information.

When Kyungsoo let his eyes wander through the room yet again, he felt like he was one of the last persons to complain though.

Jongdae was leaning against the wall, one hand absently rubbing his chin, mouth slightly open, letting just the tiniest breaths of air through. It looked like his brain was also having problems, processing so much information, so much change.  
Baekhyun, on the other hand, was already sitting on the floor, Yixing beside him gently trying, and only little succeeding, to calm Baekhyun with soothing words. Chanyeol was there too, talking to Jongdae, trying to come up with something logical. It looked like it didn’t work.  
It wasn’t like Kyungsoo could judge Baekhyun and Jongdae. After all, they were the ones who went with him.  
Apparently, it took the two of them to finally convince Jongin that the doctor wouldn’t ‘hurt’ him, that _no one_ here had the intention to hurt him.

To say that they were all pretty worn out would be the understatement of the century. 

Sehun, who was sitting beside him, was restlessly tapping his foot on the ground, fumbling with the hem of his T-shirt.

They were all worn out, yes, but it wasn’t like the nervousness, the adrenalin, or the tension would allow their bodies to show even a hint of tiredness.

The door opened.

A woman walked in. Kyungsoo judged from her facial wrinkles that she probably had to be in her fifties. The long, white coat she wore was carried up into the air with every step she took, her feet moving quick and with determination. Light blue pants hugged her legs, revealing her slim, although well trained figure.

Obviously Baekhyun and Jongdae recognized her, because suddenly, they were standing straight and at full alert. The woman gave them a light nod, greeting them.  
Junmyeon was the first to ask. “How is he?” Minseok followed. “What’s the matter with him?”  
Then Chanyeol came. “What the hell was that? I’ve never seen him like th- “

“Boys…”, the doctor cut them off, raising her hand as a sign for them to stop. “We will all sort this out, okay? Just please, take a seat for now.” They were sitting down into the old leather seats again.  
The doctor, ‘Jeong Seun’, as Kyungsoo read on the little name card on her coat, remained standing, brushing some grey hair strands behind her ear. “Good. First, let me say that we should be able to provide you with the answers to almost all the questions that you have for us. The most important thing is that we all take a deep breath, and calm down, which would be the best you could do for your friend now.” Minseok looked like he wanted to object something, but decided to shut his mouth anyway.

The doctor closed her eyes briefly, and then continues with her explanation.  
“As you all probably have found out, this isn’t a laughing matter. Neither for me, nor for you. You should treat it as such. Jongin has gone through some horrible things, that are important for you to know. And- “, she turns to Jongdae, looking him sternly into the eye, “I need to know that you can keep this to yourself. This is very confidential information, which involves Jongin’s psychical health. If you fail to remain private about this, you will face legal consequences. Have I made myself clear?”

Eight heads nodded. Yixing stood up. “Mam”, he began “I can assure you, he is our friend, he is family. We would never, ever talk about him without his approval and definitely not about things that concern his health, be it mentally or physically.”

“I figured as much. As idols, you could as well write a book about personal space and information.” She chuckled slightly. “You’ve first met Jongin in his teenage years, if I recall correctly, which is why you didn’t notice anything of”, she made a gesture with her hand towards direction of the room where Jongin was in, “‘that’ before. Do you know Jongin’s parents personally?”  
“Yes, he once took them with him to meet us”, said Suho, the uneasiness making him wring with his hands. She nodded. “These are not his real parents. Jongin is adopted.”

There was silence for a brief time. Then Sehun laughed. “This doesn’t make sense. He would’ve told us, or at least mentioned it somewh- “  
“And why do you think is that?”, Seung cut him off. “His previous parents were highly abusive. Psychopaths who tortured their child. Jongin has been, and is, heavily traumatized.”  
Sehun stared at her, his mouth agape. “I-I…”  
“From age two to ten, his parents denied him food, sleep, comfort. They hit and abused his body. The mind of a child often just can’t cope with things like these. Especially after they found him. Jongin wasn’t able to handle the sudden change between the world that his parents taught him was normal, and the world he is in now. Victims of such circumstances often develop a mindset where they can stuff all these things that has happened to them in a certain place of their head, making the memories only come out when triggered. You might have also heard of this as multiple or dissociative identity disorder. Normally, people with DID have a whole other personality or personalities, which allow them to endure the pain for them. Jongin, on the other hand, doesn’t have other personalities that take care of him, but rather an another ‘mindset’ when confronted with his past, if that explanation helps you. But it’s a very similar concept to DID.”  
“And the reason”, she looked Sehun sternly into the eye, “why he doesn’t talk about it, should be obvious. After all, you’ve seen what can happen.” Again, she directed her hand towards Jongin’s room.

Sehun avoided her glance and observed the floor, the faint dirty footprints on it suddenly very interesting. Chanyeol gave him a sympathetic look, slightly smiling at him.

Baekhyun couldn’t keep still any longer. “Earlier you said it must be triggered by something that reminds him of his past, right? What was it? We didn’t notice anything unusual.”

“The police are still investigating. Although I might know the reasons, I’m not allowed to tell you more. I’m sorry. What I am allowed to do, however, is to free you from work, at least for the time being. If there’s one thing that Jongin needs now more than ever, it’s family. So just be that for now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither am I a doctor, nor a psychologist. If something isn't true concerning psychological facts, which a lot probably is, cuz this is a work of fiction, then I'm sorry. But remember, I write this story for fun, not to offend anyone. But if you do see some major slip ups or mistakes then plz don't hesitate to tell me. As always I apologize for any grammatical errors. The next chapter won't take so long to update, cuz I've already written it :)  
> When scholl hasn't managed to suck out my life force, then I'll see you in a week or so with the next chapter (It will be mainly fluff)
> 
> Edit: Y'all I don't know why this note at the end always keeps showing up, just ignore it. (Behold, the lord of technology)

**Author's Note:**

> I know the first chapter is short, but they will grow longer as the story grows. The second chapter already is. As I have not much experience with writing fanfiction, and English is not my first language as well, please tell me what to improve and what to leave the way it is! Thank you! :)


End file.
